My Body Is My Temple

Several bits of news since my last post. My first of the week’s guest blogging appearances is up at Erotic Flashes—a look at a snippet of the novella in its second draft, to compare with how it ended up after Amanda took the reins—alongside a fairly tepid review.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned them here yet, but there are at least two other reviews of Five Days floating around in cyberspace, one at the Oysters and Chocolate website, and another by Kay Jaybee, a fellow OC Press author. No biases there whatsoever.

Yesterday provided a nice surprise in the form of a very quick acceptance from NAP Magazine. Jesse Bradley actually called my phone to let me know. It’s a fantastic way to get an acceptance, so much more satisfying than an email. So NAP gets extra major props for that. We talked about AWP a little—dude’s booked for like a dozen readings or something—and it really made me want to go, but sadly I don’t think it’s feasible at this point. Hopefully, the Safety Pin Review will be represented with a story there.

Issue Nineteen of the Safety Pin Review is up, featuring none other than Casey Hannan, one of my favorites. I’ve also decided to take more of a focus on the weekly radio show, and made a festive digital poster for the occasion. Things move fast over there, much faster than they do here.

Well.

Meanwhile: Our Friends Must Choose Who They Will Favor, Who They Will Lose

This week has been an emotional whipsaw. First, last Sunday, came an acceptance from PANK, a personal benchmark since forever. I am so, so excited about this. So much so, I even told Facebook. Where there are people who actually know me in real life. I don’t know about you, but to me this feels a little like the bigtime.

Then, in stark opposition, on Friday, after caterwauling through the working week, I found myself in the midst of some unexpected and severe emotional fallout that I don’t care to comment on here.

My head approximated great, orchestral swells, approximately these. I cried and hit inanimate things. Bad off.

I’ve overbooked myself this semester, but so be it.

Monkeybicycle published my one-sentence story “The Death of Grunge” last week. I wrote this one during the heat, in a car ride to the Jersey shore. I just sat with my sweaty notebook in the backseat, trying to make these thirty-odd words come.

At the Safety Pin Review, David Sklar wore Berit Ellingsen’s story to a sci-fi convention and then wrote about it in “Your Message Here: SPR at an SF Con.” And mensah demary’s “Depression’s Saturday” marks the SPR’s eighteenth issue.

I have my weekly radio show back at the college station, where I read SPR stories and play music. You should listen. More details here.

In the erotic world, this coming week I’m guest-blogging at a bunch of erotica-themed sites to boost Five Days. I’ve tried to do this in at least a semi-interesting way, and have written a couple new fictions and personal bits for the occasion. Should be exciting.

Here’s the schedule for where I’ll be found:

Monday, January 30: Erotic Flashes.

Tuesday, January 31: 4-Letter Words.

Wednesday, February 1: Getting Naughty Between the Stacks.

Thursday, February 2: Erotica For All.

Friday, February 3: the Write Café.

I’ll post links as they go live throughout the week. A blast.

Fashion Disasters

The latest issue of the Safety Pin Review is up—Issue Sixteen, by Berit Ellingsen—and intermingled along with its first batch of Action Shots is an essay which is basically me finally coming to terms with how the SPR is supposed to work.

If you’ve been following the development of this project with any kind of interest, then it is probably of some importance that you head over to the Safety Pin Review site to read the ruminations posted there. It seems as if I’m finally catching up with what some other people have thought about the Review since the beginning. It’s okay, I’m always two or three steps behind. (Additional responses from Berit Ellingsen, David Sklar, my mother and myself can be found in the comments section.)

Coincidentally, based on current circumstances, it looks like I’ll be donning a story myself next week for the first time in a few months. Like many SPR stories, this next one is in first person, its content deeply personal and traumatized. Now, I think I’ll know how to wear it.

Solemnity coming up.

Slushing Through the Winter Months

I have an approximately 140-character piece up at the Twitterzine 7x20 today, thanks to editor Joanne Merriam. Let’s call it “Shaved Head.” It’s a little awkward aesthetically because it ends with the word “mohawk” and then has my Twitter ID “@mohawko” right next to it, but that’s okay. Maybe no one will notice.

You should all read Issue Fifteen of the Safety Pin Review, because it’s short and is worth substantially more time than this blog post.

Writerly New Year’s resolutions: none.

The Only Voice He Ever Knew

Found Fiction # 2

Is it really over? is this really goodbye? Maybe I could say something and maybe you change your mind maybe buy a lil more time But I got nothing I’m Just Blank please let me think of something cause I got nothing. maybe I should get down on my knees and Tell you what you want to hear and give you what you need Or + I got nothin no magic words. all I know is that I Love you Alice Harlow!!!

—Brendon Case #5

*

 I have a piece that just went live on the latest shift of trans lit mag, transmutations.

Bringing Everyone and Everything Together Forever and Ever

What follows is a transcription of a texting conversation I had approximately one year ago:

Simon: You may be pleased to learn that I’ve just worked through a particularly difficult part of my novel. Sorry. Needed to tell someone.

Amanda: Haha, good job. I worked on the novella in class instead of actually paying attention.

Simon: Erotica tends to be a good distractor.

Amanda: Yeah, but I look up at doug bennett every once in a while and fantasy turns into twisted nightmare.

Simon: At which point mutant sex demons invade Sam and Alicia’s happy narrative.

Amanda: Haha, that was before I saw doug. Now something much worse has been uneashed.

Simon: The kraken, perhaps?

Amanda: Haha, you know me too well. Couldn’t pass up adding the nautical theme.

Amanda (12 minutes later): And one day you’ll tell me what your current novel is about. You were cryptic.

Simon: One day soon, yes. PS – mariners are salty.

Amanda: Comes with the territory. Salt in every crevice.

The novel referenced in the above conversation has since been completed and abandoned. The erotica was unleashed last week by OC Press in the form of Five Days.

And speaking of coming full circle, I have a piece up at wonderful Specter Magazine, "The Absolute Latest in Alternative Fashion," which includes a part of virtually everything I’ve written and done over the past three years, erotica & punk & the Safety Pin Review & everything. So no biggie. It has a lot of pretty things in it.

I have not yet written the salacious mariner story implied by the above conversation. Although krakens have many tentacles. Stay tuned.

No RSVP Required

Dear Zero Followers,

Please consider buying my and Amanda's erotic novella Five Days. You can get it for the price of two iTunes songs. Or perhaps a medium-sized coffee of a reputable brand. Either way, it's worth it. Totally. Every cent. Sex. Lots of it. More than in a medium-sized cup of coffee, and most iTunes songs.

At my school, you can buy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for $1.59. Drop that for a day, add $0.40, and you could buy the novella. Really. A little cup of fucking hummus at this place costs more here than the novella.

If you want something free, you could always read my piece at Clean Sheets, which might put you in the mood to give up a small amount (~20 minutes at minimum wage) of your hard-earned for something more substantial.

Just click on the picture to the right. It'll be fun. I Promise. Promise.

Love,
Simon
(Amanda also)